


After the Fall

by Galanodel_zivah



Category: Mass Effect Trilogy
Genre: Angst, F/M, Friendship, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Mass Effect 3: Citadel, Mass Effect 3: From Ashes, Post-Mass Effect 3, References to Depression, Renegade Shepard (Mass Effect), Ruthless (Mass Effect), Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, paragade, renegon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-10
Updated: 2020-10-10
Packaged: 2021-03-08 01:21:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,218
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26927269
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Galanodel_zivah/pseuds/Galanodel_zivah
Summary: Close on the heels of the ending of Mass Effect 3, while the Normandy is undergoing repairs, Garrus tries to understand Shepard's choice to increasingly, mysteriously, and infuriatingly isolate herself after Thessia, and he receives a message that may provide some answers.Includes some canon-specific dialogue as well as references from the Extended Cut ending as well as the From Ashes and Citadel DLCs.
Relationships: Female Shepard & Garrus Vakarian, Female Shepard/Garrus Vakarian
Kudos: 13





	1. Chapter 1

“You need to eat.”

Garrus looked up from the maintenance panel. Tali stood nearby, arm outstretched with a proffered dextro bar in hand. He twitched his nose with a deep breath and straightened with a groan.

“Admiral Zorah, here with both the issues and the solutions.” His subvocals hummed thanks as he took the bar and saluted her with it before opening it and digging in. “Very efficient.”

Tali shifted her weight, setting her hands on her hips with a tilt of her head. “There’s no sense in us burning out - that won’t get us off of this planet faster.” With a roll of her shoulders, she turned to go. “I need to get back to engineering - we’re closer to bringing the drive online. I’m hoping it won’t disintegrate us first.” She waved her hand. “I’ll catch up with you later.”

A few steps up, the whoosh of a door opening and closing, and she was gone. Even though he could hear crew members passing back and forth above him, Garrus was alone in the quiet.

Jack had chosen this place well - unless there was maintenance needed, anyone down here in the belly of the ship would be left alone. Alone, that is, until Shepard came to chat with you.

Jack had complained to him once, prying him for information about what was with Shepard’s obsession with “girl talk.” And at the beginning, Garrus had considered those checkins a nuisance too. They tended to interrupt delicate maintenance work, weapon modifications, and calibrations. Over time, though, they became a welcome break in between moments of intense focus. Especially after she’d died and come back, they were consistent confirmations that she was alive. And even after his renewed surprise at that state of affairs wore off, their talks became a welcome necessity. They were a reminder to come up for air. A chance to discuss, plan, debrief, and dream. Eventually, they led to moments of intense focus of a different kind as well.

But at some point near the end of the fight with the reapers, they stopped.

He stared at the dextro bar, wordlessly apologizing to it for his sudden sense of distaste. It wasn’t just “at some point.” He knew exactly when things had veered sharply off-course.

\---

“So, Thessia, huh? I guess the Asari are wishing they had fewer dancers and more commandos right about now. Too soon?”

Garrus sighed, knowing that Joker wouldn’t hear the layered warning in his voice.

Joker hadn’t breathed the suffocating air in the shuttle as it left Thessia. Shepard had sat silently, folded over - her head heavily propped on clasped hands with elbows on knees - peering into the middle distance with a stare both placid and unnerving. 

He hadn’t seen her pacing around the war room like a cornered varren, stopping only when Traynor gave her a target for her frustrations. 

He hadn’t heard the tone of her voice as she spoke to Anderson in the QEC - brittle and bitter in a way that Garrus had never heard before.

Maybe if Joker had...

She snapped. “In case you haven’t noticed, we just lost a few million people! This isn’t the time!”

Rather than answering immediately, Joker swiped a few times at his display to pull up a rendering of a planet - a colony world, by the looks of it, one that looked like any other.

“You see this? Tiptree. Little colony out in the ass-end of nowhere. My dad lives there. So does my sister.” A tap and menacing indicators appeared on the screen, circling the planet. “Reapers rolled in about two weeks ago.” He swiped away the display and glared at the empty screen. “So you can assume that I generally know that there’s a war on, Commander!” 

“So why the jokes?”

Joker swiveled to face her, the desperation in his voice belying the scowl he wore. “Because EDI says that according to your armor's metabolic scans, you're under more stress now than during the Skyllian Blitz. Like more than Torfan, where you put your whole damn squad through a meat grinder!” Did he not notice Shepard’s sudden and absolute stillness? If he did, he ignored it and continued. “And the last time I had a briefing with Anderson, he told _me_ to take care of _you_. The guy leading the resistance - on EARTH - is worried about you! And I'm supposed to help!”

All of the air was sucked out of the room and left them in that suffocating silence.

Shepard’s voice, when she spoke, had lost all of its brittleness. It was quiet, measured, even, and hard.

“I don’t need your help. When I want a damn pep talk, I’ll ask for one.” She turned away and spoke over the cockpit door hissing open. “Otherwise, you’re my pilot, not my therapist. Are we clear?”

The door wooshed shut behind her. She wasn’t looking for an answer.

That didn’t prevent Joker from throwing a bitter “Understood, Commander” after her.

\---

What if Garrus had followed, then, rather than hanging back in the cockpit to give her some space? What if he’d made her talk to him?

But he hadn’t. And after those hours, that day, Shepard grew increasingly reticent. The visits stopped, and Garrus was thankful that he could at least see her when she returned to their quarters at whatever hour of the night.

Her nightmares continued to get worse, and he could do nothing to stop them. She wouldn’t open up to him, let him help her when he woke her from them time and time again. 

Then he realized that it wasn’t just her usual rounds that had stopped. It seemed like she started avoiding everyone. 

Alright, it didn’t seem. She did avoid everyone. He got together with Liara and Tali and even Williams on more than one occasion to discuss their commander and to try to draw her out to no avail. She politely declined all overtures with unquestionably-credible reasons.

He tried to draw her out again after she got back from the Cerberus base, her face ashen and skin smelling like blood and charred metal. She hadn’t taken him, of course - only Vega and Javik accompanied her on missions anymore - and he couldn’t get her to tell him why or what had happened there. She explained only that they found what they needed. Then, succinctly and dispassionately, she asked him to leave.

Angry and hurt, he nevertheless complied. He shook off Liara’s questioning look when he set up a cot in the battery. 

Later, he’d tried to speak to her during their brief reprieve in London, but she didn’t speak to any of them beyond the necessities of the assault. There were no stirring speeches this time, just a layout of the plan (which he hated because it didn’t include him on her team), unadorned thanks, and a dismissal. After speaking briefly to the Primarch, he'd obediently returned to the Normandy, silently cursing with every step.

So the last time he had seen her was through the front windows of the cockpit as the Normandy sped back towards the battlefield to pick up Javik and an injured Vega. Along with the rest of the combined fleets, he had held his breath as the reports trickled in. She'd made it to the Citadel. She'd opened the arms. She'd somehow activated the Crucible. It was time to go. Without her. Over the roaring in his head, he faintly heard Liara’s urging Joker to leave. They were gone before he could form an argument.

Everything after that had been chaos and evasive maneuvers followed by a crashed ship.

And Garrus was still angry. And like before, he let the anger fuel him, directed at fixing the Normandy so that they could fly again and make their way back into the traverse. He didn’t know what to think, what to hope for. So he didn’t bother. He kept busy. The Normandy’s systems took his abuse and were slowly the better for it. It was a small blessing.

Garrus took another bite of the bar and headed back up toward the forward battery to rest.

As he exited the elevator, however, his omnitool flickered with a new message sent via the Normandy’s intranet. 

“Loft,” it read simply, “key: tango,” followed by a series of numbers and letters for input into a terminal.

Before he could even think about it, he was inside the loft. He locked the door behind him.

He hadn’t been back to this room since after the Cerberus base - like everyone else, he’d been both metaphorically and literally locked out - but the room was still largely as they had left it. Neat - things closed away and secured, save for the shattered fish tank (empty anyway since the second time the fish had died back in their Cerberus days), and the artifacts of her travels - previously displayed both proudly and sadly - now scattered around the floor.

Leaning over the desk with Shepard’s personal console, Garrus punched in the sent code, unsure of what he would find. 

It brought up a log entry, dated the night Shepard had returned from the Cerberus base. Rather, sometime in the small hours of the morning after he’d left - when they were in a mad dash towards the Citadel. Towards the Reapers. Towards Earth.  
  


\--

_Damnit, I lost my focus. How could I have been so stupid? I let myself get carried away. We’ve saved entire species, cured the Genophage, brokered a peace on Rannoch that no one ever expected. We did this all together. We saved so many._

_So I let myself look away for a moment. I lost myself in those beautiful details hiding in the grotesque and unforgiving state of the galaxy right now. The neon lights of the Strip, seeing all of my friends together, saying goodbye together to those who were missing. Waking up in bed after what was probably the best party of my life and barely being able to move. Not wanting to move. Possibly ever again. Kind of wish I’d stayed there, really._

_But we pressed on, because we had to._

_And then I lost Thessia._

_Why this world? Why not Palaven? Earth? Why did this one break me?_

_The Asari councilor took her time bringing needed information into the fight. They held back so much for so long. They hid things, important things, from everyone while the galaxy burned - all on a planet that had never even known war._

_But no one deserves this._

_I could have saved them. I should have done better. I swore that I would do better, whatever that took. It was my responsibility._

_Everyone works well enough without me now. Really, they’re all I’d hope for in a command. A team that realizes their own potential. That works together as more than the sum of their individual parts. So I could afford to… sever ties. Get rid of distractions. Mitigate the danger of the situation by taking people out of the impending equations bearing down on us all._

_I had done it before. I made my career based on my ability to get things done, no matter the cost. I wouldn’t have called myself ruthless - I always minimized collateral damage as much as possible - but that’s what I became known for anyway. People can’t understand the situation if they’re not on the ground, and I don’t begrudge them that. I had to separate my feelings from my strategy in order to do some of the impossible things that were asked of me. I wouldn’t wish those choices on anyone._

_I made those choices so that they wouldn’t have to._

_Anyway... something happened over the last three years._

_I guess you happened._

_I saw myself in you. Your willingness to do whatever it took. Pressing against the barriers set up against really helping people. Immediately. Your certainty of what was right. That beautiful black and white._

_But somehow, just then and in that place and time, your absolute certainty made me question mine. And I found myself talking you down - taking you away from the quick, certain, and final solutions, through the grey and towards a different right decision._

_A while ago, Liara asked me how I’d like my entry in her time capsule to read. I hope that you reading this means that she won’t need it, but all the same…_

_At the time, I told her to tell the truth. All of it. And let history decide._

_But I realize now that facts don’t always show the whole truth of a situation. Things that look like choices aren’t always choices at all, when all alternatives are unthinkable._

_I don’t know if this is making any sense, but I need to get this out._

_This thing...this war and the Crucible...this isn’t something I can avoid. I’m charging towards it because the alternatives are unthinkable. So I’m going to look at the choice that I can make._

_Anderson told me once that a good leader is someone who values the life of his men over the success of the mission. But who also understands that, sometimes, the cost of failing a mission is higher than the cost of losing those men. I’ve lived my life on both sides of that line. So many have died because of that line. I can no longer accept that._

_So this is my center. This is my choice._

_I value all of you too much to lose you, and the galaxy can’t afford for me to fail._

_I choose both, and I choose neither. I choose you._

_I will do what it takes to get this done, and since that likely means not getting out of this, I choose to shoulder that responsibility alone._

_I know we aren’t leaving things in a good place. And though I haven’t told you yet, I know that you’re never going to forgive me for not taking you with me all the way into hell. I just can’t risk you. Not now. And I won’t ask you for your forgiveness._

_I still love you. No matter what happens...or what happened, I guess, at this point… I always will._

_So this has to be worth it. You need to live. All of you do. I’ll do everything in my power to see that you do. You’re probably going to hate every minute of it, but when this is done…_

_I guess I’m driving towards this: Do as I say, not as I do. Don’t go off and clean out the scum of the galaxy on Omega again, okay? I know it’s not fair, but grant me this selfishness._

_Live, and live well. And remember that you don’t always need to make those choices, and that choices put in front of you aren’t always what they seem. Find the right ones for yourself._

_Spirits watch over you, Garrus Vakarian, and so will I._

\--

Timeout made the screen flicker and finally dissipate, and the words disappeared again into the ether.

Garrus continued to stare blankly at the space where the words had been.

It was only when he heard the door chime that he came back to himself. He felt his throat - tense and raw - and he felt the slow, deep grooves that his talons had left on the desk. He shook his head, made his way to the door, and opened it.

Tali stepped back suddenly as if startled that anyone would answer this door.

“Liara told me that you might be up here,” Tali recovered quickly. “Are you...alright?”

Garrus took a deliberate breath. “No. No, Tali, I’m really not.” 

He stepped aside and gestured her in, reactivated the console for her, and made his way to sit at the edge of the bed to wait.

“ _Keelah_ ...Shepard...that _bosh’tet_ ,” she hissed finally, voice thin and sharp. “How _dare_ she make that decision for us?” She shot up from the console and began pacing the room, hands working over each other in a frenzy, clenching and unclenching her fingers, head shaking. “How _could_ she? We could work together well so we didn’t _need her_? She didn’t need us?”

“I don’t know,” Garrus set his forehead in his palms. “I wish I did. I probably should’ve…”

He let it trail off as he heard the Tali’s steps stop followed by a series of chirps from her omnitool.

“Wh-what are you doing?”

“Messaging Liara. She needs to see this.”

Garrus stood, hand partially outstretched. “Does she?”

Tali ignored him, finished her message, exhaled an exasperated sigh, and let her arms drop. 

“You were going to keep this to yourself, weren’t you, if I hadn’t come up just now?” She waited intently for his answer, and when one didn’t come, she walked down the short step towards him and jabbed him in the shoulder. Surprisingly hard.

“See, this is why you two were meant for each other," she seethed, "You’re both _terrible_.”

She turned away, throwing her hands up and gesturing wildly. “I’m Commander Shepard. I think I’m the only one who can save every single planet in the galaxy and have to do it alone even though there are amazing people around me and none of us can control everything anyway!” 

A turn the other way, arms crossed, voice pitched comically downward. “I’m Archangel - I take it upon myself to clean out a particularly seedy part of the galaxy, and then I try to go down with my ship because that’s what I deserve for not being _perfect_!” 

She stopped then, faced him, and truly looked like she was considering jabbing at him again, possibly more painfully.

But he heard a strangled inhale instead as she dropped her head. She deflated, hugging her arms tightly to herself to stop her shoulders from shaking. 

“You _deserved_ each other.”

After a moment, Garrus gingerly stepped forward and put his arms around her. He spoke quietly into the cloth of her hood, a keening edge to his words giving voice to loss. 

“We all deserved each other.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading!
> 
> This story was borne of a few things: a desire for a mental exercise through a Ruthless background for a trilogy Shepard, constant themes (and glorification) of self-sacrifice in the Trilogy, the Trolley Problem, feeling awful that my Shepard argued with Joker that one time, and that one Spongebob universe meme about isolating yourself (https://me.me/i/ottom-co-patrick-star-so-youre-depressed-yup-youre-isolating-498bb2ea78844a709f57ebd9e74b8990)
> 
> It went through a few titles "After Thessia," "The Trolley Problem," and finally, I landed on naming it after a Chelsea Wolfe song - "After the Fall."
> 
> It originally ended after Shepard's letter, since I wanted to say some things about how perception affects the reality of choice (and vice versa). But since a fair amount of this is about how self-isolation seeks to control things that we can't and shouldn't control - it doesn't save those around us from pain and danger - it felt important to have Garrus and Tali show some of that.
> 
> If you're feeling alone, please reach out. There are people who love you. We all deserve each other.


	2. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This scene appeared in my head and it needed to also be here, but as an appendage rather than a part of the main body of the story.

“Did you know?”

Javik didn’t look up from washing his hands. For a moment, Garrus thought that the Prothean might not deign to answer him.

“You will need to be more specific, Turian. There are many things that I know.”

It was only his distaste with being “read” by Javik’s weird touch-sense that prevented Garrus from strangling him and shoving him against a wall.

“After Thessia,” he growled. “Did you know what Shepard was doing?”

Javik shook his hands out, droplets barely registering in the constant ripple of the liquid in the water table. His turn towards Garrus could have looked lazy and unconcerned, but Garrus knew better. He employed the same posture as both defense and a show of power, and had seen it in Thane and every other body that had been honed and practiced to kill.

“Did I know that the Commander was seeking to remove from herself any reasons for her to lose focus, to hesitate in her duty?” His four eyes blinked slowly before he answered with calm certainty. “Yes. I did not need to sense anything to do so. It was readily apparent.”

He must have blinked again, because in the next breath he found himself on the floor, face sore and eyesight dazed.

One moment after, he heard Garrus leave.


End file.
